


End of the Beginning

by tersa (alix)



Series: Mass Effect:Kait [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Spoilers, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-29
Updated: 2011-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alix/pseuds/tersa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ilos, Alenko and Shepard haven't had the time or opportunity to discuss or follow-up on what happened that night or what lay between them. Kaidan finally bites the bullet to do so...right before Alchera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> An explanation of the terminology for the watch system, which I based on the old British Naval tradition, can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watch_system

Kaidan found her up in the cockpit with Joker. Joker hated it, of course, having the CO ‘hovering’ as he liked to call it, but Shepard politely told him to get bent and did it anyway, trying to remain as unobstrusive as possible. She was one step aside from the walkway that acted like the spine of Ops, linking the cockpit to navigation, out of sight from everyone south of the open doorway. Pretending to hide, she liked to joke, and everyone on the ship gave her her privacy when she did it, playing along.

Everyone but him.

“Commander,” he said in a low-pitched voice, earning a twitch from Joker’s chair, but Moreau was polite enough not to turn around. He was part of the game, like it or not, of the worst kept secret on the Normandy.

“Lieutenant,” Sheperd returned in kind, which in the subtle dance served as an invitation to join her when it lacked the brusqueness that served as request to leave her alone.

Kaidan chose to interpret it as the former and stood by her side. Close enough to feel the warmth of her body against the chilly air of the ship’s environmental controls, to smell her through the antiseptic scent of the scrubbers, savoring the duality that rose up within him in these situations, content to simply _be_ with her, to be with her doing something she enjoyed doing, while at the same time fighting the desire to touch her, to put an arm around her waist, to feel her side pressed against his, maybe even to kiss her, to drop his lips against her shoulder, or even on her cheek.

He fought it because indulging would break another unspoken rule of the game, the one where they did not acknowledge, in public, that they were together. The Alliance was very strict about fraternization within its ranks, with it being especially frowned upon in the command staff, and the fact that Shepard was a Spectre would likely hardly matter to Admiral Hackett if they went about being flagrant about it.

No, better to stand there in silence, basking in her presence while lending, he hoped, comfort in his own, while her gaze searched the star field. The instruments would detect things long before the human eye, but she was a child of a planet, and looking into the starry sky of space was a habit she couldn’t break herself of, she’d explained. She wasn’t the only Alliance member who’d expressed joining up for that reason, but he was the most endeared by hers.

She stirred, posture shifting to straighten her back and square her shoulders, and turned her head to look at him. “Did you come here with a report, or just to enjoy the view?”

He had trouble, sometimes, telling when she was teasing him. Her delivery could be dry at time, and her tongue acerbic when he guessed wrong. Given how long she’d remained silent since he joined her, he decided to hazard it was teasing. He let his eyes wander down her body then back up again as he answered, “The view,” with a ghost of a grin.

The flicker of amusement that turned up the corners of her mouth confirmed his guess. Before she could reply, Joker interjected, “We’ll be reaching Alchera around Middle watch, Commander.”

Sheperd shared an exasperated smile with Kaidan, but then schooled her expression back to sobriety and said, “Thanks, Joker. Let me know if anything comes up before that.”

“Will do, Commander.”

It had only been a few weeks since the Battle of the Citadel. Since a night on the way to Ilos, where looking down the barrel of a gun and uncertain she’d come out the other side, Kaidan had gone to her quarters and thrown a lifetime of self-control out the window to be with her—which had been nothing after actively participating in a mutiny. She’d asked, and he’d stayed, an intense night of lovemaking by two desperate people staring death in the eye.

She had survived, they both had, and faced the more practical questions on how to continue with a relationship that was technically illegal. Mutinies which resulted in saving the galaxy might be forgiven, but this…might not be. He’d told her that night that regulations seemed petty then, they still did, and that what mattered most was them. What were they out here for except to protect life, and what was life without love? He couldn’t give her up, she was his drug, more potent than stims.

They hadn’t been together, not like that, since before Ilos. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. The first month or so was a crazy time of upheaval while a new Council was chosen and the last of the geth were cleaned out of the core systems. Shepard had insisted her duty as a Spectre required they help out there, but as soon as the other Council fleets seemed to have a handle on things, she pushed them out to the Terminus systems, where the geth were still strong. It hadn’t seemed appropriate to even ask, and she hadn’t offered, and so they existed in a kind of limbo.

Things were finally seeming to ease up, though. The encounters they’d had with the geth in the last couple of weeks had been little more than dust ups, nothing like what they’d faced before Virmire.

Maybe it was time.

Kaidan grabbed at her sleeve as she shifted to leave, dropping his head and his voice to ask in a voice nearly inaudible under the throb of the engines and the hiss of the life support, “Can I come by tonight?”

There was a catch in her breathing, the exhale stuttering as it blew warm across his face, so close he was. She didn’t respond immediately, and his heart thudded hard in his chest in nervousness. “You’re on First watch, right?” When he dipped his chin in assent, she added, “Stop by when you’re off.”

A flood of relief made him smile before he stepped back, letting her go.

His head slewed around towards Joker’s chair, confirming its back was still to Kaidan, but Joker said, “I didn’t see nothing,” which did nothing to reassure him.

The crew…well, the crew knew. But those onboard had thrown their lot in behind Shepard when she’d stolen the Normandy out of space dock, proving themselves more loyal to her than the Alliance. If he wasn’t so swept up into it himself, he might think it was dangerous, this cult of personality.

From the inside, he didn’t care.

#####

Kaidan yawned. Being the commander of the marine squad meant he didn’t have to take late hour watches if he didn’t want to, but he thought it was good for moral to have his people see him doing his fair share of late night duties. Oh-hundred hours wasn’t that late, unless you’d been up since the previous Morning watch like he had.

What kept him going was having only fifteen more minutes to wait.

Rubbing at his eyes to clear them, he decided to grab another coffee and turned to the dispenser to get a cup when the klaxon went off.

“Brace yourselves, people!” came Joker’s alarmed voice over the intercom.

“What the—“

The Normandy swerved hard, and Kaidan was thrown to the side while the gravitic units struggled to compensate. Chatter burst into his ear piece from the marines on duty—‘enemy vessel’, ‘saw through the shield’ rising up through the babble. “Posts, people!” he ordered out, just as a loud *BANG* reverberated through the ship along with a hard judder.

They were under fire.

They’d taken a hit.

Training kicked in then. He didn’t know how bad that damage was, but it felt bad, worse than anything he’d experienced onboard before. Fire alarms went off, adding to the cacophony—yeah, it was bad. He raced for his locker, getting into his armor in record time then grabbing his helmet before racing towards the bridge, dodging crewmen racing for the escape pods, falling debris, and flames burning through the bulkheads.

Bad.

He found her where he expected to, outside her quarters, putting her helmet on against the flames and smoke, like he should have. He followed suit, then called out, “Shepard!”

Calmly, she tapped into the panel, ignoring the screams and the shudders to report, “Distress beacon ready for launch.”

He tried to keep his cool, like she was, but adrenaline gnawed at his control. “Will the Alliance get here in time?”

Something exploded, throwing him against her. Reflexively, their hands came up, and her gloves curled around the edges of his chest plate, steadying him. For a moment, their eyes locked through their visors--and he knew. She wasn’t leaving until everyone was off.

A wholly inappropriate time to feel his heart tear. He was supposed to be with her right now.

The moment of closeness passed, and her arms pushed to steady him before she said, “The Alliance won’t abandon us, we just need to hold on. Get everyone on to the escape shuttles.”

Tightness in his throat lent a frantic edge when he said, “Joker’s still in the cockpit. He won’t abandon ship.” He paused, looking at her, and added with grim determination, “I’m not leaving, either.”

“I need you to get the crew onto the evac shuttles,” she replied with a spark of anger, but he heard the rest behind it, the concern for him as much as the crew. “I’ll take care of Joker.”

He knew the risk that would be. Navigating through the halls of a dying ship on the off chance Moreau was still alive in the cockpit--precious time that made her chances of surviving all the slimmer. Cold certainty lodged in his chest, and he made one last plea, “Commander!”

She turned to him, and even though he could no longer see her eyes through the glare from the flames, he heard the warmth in her voice despite the forcefulness of her words, “Kaidan--go!” She paused, her resolve flickering, before she steadied herself and added, “Now.”

For the third time since meeting her, he wanted to disobey a direct order. He didn’t want to escape if she didn’t, and staying with her would ensure either they both would, or neither. But his sense of duty kicked in--she was counting on him, _depending_ on him to get the rest of the crew to safety, and her decision to save Joker was just another aspect of that. She wouldn’t be Shepard without that quality, and he wouldn’t love her if she didn’t. Reluctantly, he said, “Aye, aye,” and ran off to the shuttles.

Hope flickered in his heart all the way through planetfall, guttering valiantly in the long hours before the Alliance cruiser showed up to gather the survivors of the SSV Normandy SR-1 into its hold for return back to the Citadel. It was only when they were all gathered, all the homing beacons accounted for, and he found Joker amongst them, being tended by the medics, that the flame snuffed out.


End file.
